Jordan Evans stands in a locker room, baton in hand and uniform tight, his blond hair catching the light as he shifts between poses, shirtless, then fully naked, before the flashlight’s beam lingers on his muscles. The gun rests idle while he strikes a cop’s stance, then drops away as the uniform peels off, leaving only the uniform’s ghost in the air. Every frame locks him in place: rigid, deliberate, the weight of authority stripped bare.
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